


Be Good, Commander

by Tokyo_the_Glaive



Series: Tumblr Shorts [20]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Awkward First Times, Dominant Phasma, F/M, Hand Jobs, Light BDSM, Praise Kink, Safe Sane and Consensual, Submissive Kylo Ren, Virgin Kylo Ren
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-18
Updated: 2017-01-18
Packaged: 2018-09-18 09:32:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9378602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tokyo_the_Glaive/pseuds/Tokyo_the_Glaive
Summary: After a tryst gone awkward, Kylo thought he'd ruined any chance that he might have had with Phasma. Thankfully, he's very wrong.(Or, the one where Phasma's a good domme and Kylo's a virgin.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> For a lovely anon on tumblr!

In the morning, after he and Phasma parted ways, Kylo found that he couldn’t concentrate on much of anything. He couldn’t meditate or train. Voices drifted over him as he walked the halls, passing his ears without forming definitive words. He moved from place to place, aimless and only half-aware. His focus kept shifting from the present back to the past, back to the night before.

He and Phasma—they’d—

Kylo couldn’t think of it without blushing, furious and embarrassed. He’d made a mistake: he’d made an absolute fool of himself. No doubt she’d laughed about it when she returned to her own quarters. She’d seemed understanding while she was still with him, listening as he stammered his explanation and his apology, eager to make it up to her in any way that he could. Kylo hadn’t checked, but the idea that she hadn’t been sincere in her understanding and acceptance lurked in his mind.

It was maddening, the memory of it. He’d felt so wonderful, spectacular and complete and _ecstatic_ , and then—and then.

He’d be lucky if she ever approached him for such a liaison again. He’d been a disappointment.

At least, Kylo thought, she’d keep her lips shut about it. Phasma wasn’t one to kiss and tell, never mind that they’d (tried) to go much farther than kissing. No one else would know.

A reassuring thought, if a gloomy one. Somehow, it didn’t help Kylo’s concentration in the slightest.

* * *

_Your quarters, gamma shift?_

Kylo almost didn’t read the message from Phasma, or so he told himself. In reality, he scrambled to open it as soon as he saw her byline. That was it, though—the entirety of the message.

_What for?_ He sent back. That would help her get the idea—he wouldn’t do that again, both for her sake and his. She could find another partner and he…he’d still be alone. Alone and trapped with the memory of what had happened, but free from further embarrassment.

_Training,_ Phasma responded. _Will you?_

That sounded unrelated to anything Kylo had imagined. Was that better or worse? He couldn’t tell, but he couldn’t deny that he wanted to see her again—in private, just the two of them.

_Very well._

* * *

The scant few minutes leading up to gamma shift saw Kylo pacing his quarters, debating with himself. What kind of training was she considering? Weights, sparring? His quarters weren’t the best place for either. Perhaps she intended to grab him before relocating to one of the training rooms designed specifically for the purpose, but in that case, why not have him meet her there?

The door beeped: _Captain Phasma, requesting entry_.

“Let her in,” Kylo snapped. The doors seemed to hesitate before obeying.

Kylo couldn’t help but stare. Phasma entered, her chrome armour catching the low light and tossing it back at him. She removed her helmet and tucked it under her arm, then offered him a smile.

“Captain,” Kylo greeted. “Shall we?”

“Eager, are we?” she asked. Off went the cloak, and she set to work on the plating.

“What are you doing?”

Phasma looked up at him. “Undressing,” she said. “What are _you_ doing?” Kylo stood, unsure of how to answer. Phasma stopped fiddling with her leg braces and squinted at him. “You do want this, don’t you?”

“Why are you here?” he asked.

Phasma tilted her head, and Kylo could see the exactly moment she realized the problem.

“Ah,” she said. “I didn’t realize—I see. I’ll go, then.”

“Wait,” Kylo said. He reached out, not touching. “Don’t—why are you here?”

Phasma swallowed. “You don’t know?” she asked. Kylo waited because _no, I don’t_. “I thought this would be a regular arrangement,” she said carefully. “If that’s not what you want, I understand completely.”

“It is,” Kylo blurted. “It is, but…”

“But?” Kylo looked away from her. “It’s fine. I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to.”

Kylo straightened himself up. Best to get it out. “I don’t want to disappoint you again,” he admitted. “You’ll have better luck with someone else.”

“Someone else?” Phasma asked. “You think—” She cut herself off with a sigh. “Look at me.” Kylo didn’t budge. “ _Look at me._ ”

Kylo turned to face her. Phasma had stood up, looking every inch the commander he knew her to be.

“I will respect your wishes and leave if that’s your desire,” she said, “but I want _you_ , and with your consent, it’s you I’ll have.”

Kylo couldn’t hold her eyes. His gaze fell to her feet, then to the floor just before them.

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want you, Kylo Ren,” she said. “Do you want me?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” Phasma said. “Then strip.”

“What?”

“We’re not doing this fully clothed and I’m itching to get out of this armour. Strip.”

Kylo huffed and stepped back. Phasma had set to work on her leg braces once more, though she kept an eye on him as she worked.

“You’re sure you want this,” Kylo said, unable to let the matter go. “You know that I’m—”

“A virgin,” Phasma said, “and untouched before last night? Yes, I know that. Get out of those clothes, I want to see you—all of you.”

Kylo swallowed and obeyed. They hadn’t fully undressed the night before. It had been quick—too quick, obviously—all hands and no finesse, not that Kylo had any to offer. It seemed that Phasma had something else in mind for tonight.

Phasma had long-since finished by the time Kylo kicked away the last of his clothes.

“Look at me,” Phasma ordered. Her voice was soft—softer, anyway, but firm. Again, Kylo obeyed. _Beautiful_ wasn’t a good enough descriptor—it only told half of the story. There was _beauty_ in the curves of her breasts and hips, but there was _strength_ in the thick, corded muscle of her thighs and calves, and in the bulges of her arms and shoulders. She rippled with power, purely physical. Beautiful, powerful.

“I need you to tell me if I do anything you don’t want me to,” Phasma said, keeping that tone of pure authority. Kylo nodded. “Do you want to use a safe word?”

The phrase held no meaning for Kylo. “Safe word?” he asked.

Phasma’s mouth twisted off to one side. “A safe word is something that you—or I—can say that’ll end whatever we’re doing. You don’t have to explain or say anything else, we just stop.”

“And that’s all right?” Kylo asked.

“I’m here to have a good time, and so are you,” Phasma said. “If one of us isn’t in it, then the other should know, don’t you think?” Kylo nodded, his chin jerking up and down at uneven intervals. “What word would you like to use?”

Kylo ran his tongue over his bottom lip. “Stop?” he suggested.

Phasma frowned. “If you’d like. They’re generally something that wouldn’t normally be said.”

“Like…?”

“Like the name of a system or a planet.”

“Geonosis?” Kylo offered.

“Works for me if it works for you,” Phasma said. Kylo hesitated, unsure of himself.

“Very well,” he said. Phasma didn’t move. “What should I…?”

Phasma smiled, the corners of her eyes crinkling. “Lay on the bed, face up, arms and legs spread wide.”

Kylo backed up to the bed. He didn’t want to look away from her, though he was unsure if he was allowed to. She’d told him to look; was that still relevant? They were moving into something else now—less discussion, more intimacy. He spread himself over the bed as asked, acutely aware of the air on his bare body and the ache as his cock filled, only half-hard now but growing.

Phasma climbed on top of him, settling between his spread legs. She looked over him, scrutinizing.

“It’s criminal,” she said finally, dragging one finger over Kylo’s chest. He took a deep, shuddering breath as she passed her finger over a nipple and down to his abdomen. “You keep all of this hidden. You always look so strong, but you really are something else under all of those layers.”

Kylo felt his face flushing under the praise. He made to cover his face, but Phasma placed her hands on his arms before he could get them up too far.

“Keep your arms down,” she said gently. “Keep still for me.”

Kylo did his best to obey. The thought of keeping still had him squirming, desperate for—something. Anything.

Phasma sat back on her haunches. “Very good,” she said. Kylo felt his blush deepen, spreading to his neck and his chest. “ _Very_ good. You’re wonderful, you know.” Kylo swallowed, breathing already ragged. “Look at me.” Kylo’s eyes snapped to hers. “That’s it, I want to see you. Good.”

Kylo bit his lip, eyelids fluttering. It was too much and not enough. _Keep still_ , he told himself. Phasma wanted him to keep still. He could do that for her, couldn’t he?

“You were embarrassed because you came so quickly,” Phasma said, “but it takes practice to hold it off. I figured we could start tonight.” She took a breath, chest arching forward, and Kylo’s mouth fell open. “Would you like that?”

“Yes,” Kylo breathed.

Phasma smiled, the hint of white teeth behind those perfect lips. “Well,” she said, “since you said it so nicely.” She moved further down the bed, hands holding Kylo’s thighs apart. “I want you to try to stay still up there,” she said, rubbing circles into his skin. “Try not to move your legs especially. You’re so strong, you could strangle me with them.” Kylo instinctively spread his legs wider. “That’s good. You can talk, if you want. I’d like to hear you.”

“ _Please_ ,” Kylo said. “Please, I need, I want, I—” He exhaled, unsure of how to finish. He looked up at the ceiling, pleading. “Please.”

A feather-light touch on the underside of his cock had him jumping. Phasma made a shushing noise, but the sensation on his cock remained.

“Hush,” Phasma said. “It’s just me, just my hands.” She exhaled sharply; Kylo didn’t trust himself to look at her without coming all over her hand at just the sight of her face. He willed himself to think of something else. “You’re so hard just from this.”

She wrapped her hand loosely around him, working up and down in smooth strokes. Kylo took in a deep breath. _Don’t come don’t come don’t come don’t come_ —

“Oh, you’re doing so well,” Phasma praised. “Look at you, so still and perfect, and all for me.” Kylo arched off of the bed, only barely restraining from thrusting up into her hand, hard. “Mm, that’s right, that’s good. Just a little longer.”

Kylo whined. “Can’t,” he murmured. “Can’t hold it, can’t…” He breathed in sharply, pleasure cresting. He bit his lip and thought of lightsaber techniques, the start-up sequence for his shuttlecraft, _anything_ —

“Let go,” Phasma urged. “Let go. Come for me, Kylo.”

The way she said his name, coupled with a single smooth and agonizing swipe over his cock, had him spilling, hips jerking up off of the mattress as he moaned her name. His hips moved of their own accord, pumping up and down, seeking friction that suddenly wasn’t there.

Kylo looked down, desperate to know why she’d taken her hand away, why—but the sight before him stopped all train of thought. Phasma stared at him with something akin to wonder and awe. She licked the palm of her hand and swallowed his seed. He shuddered, the aftershocks taking over as a second, weak pulse shot through him. His body went heavy and slack, and he relaxed, boneless, into the sheets. He listened to the sound of her tongue against skin as she cleaned her own hand before she crawled up over him.

“You did so well,” she said, stroking his face. He leaned into the touch, closing his eyes. “That’s it, rest.”

“I-I…” Kylo stammered, unable to complete a thought. _I did all right?_ _Did I last long enough? Does that please you?_ Then: _I need to get her off oh stars I can hardly move I_ —

“Hush,” Phasma ordered. Kylo felt as she lay over him, her chest against his, her legs tangled in his own, her hands clasping his. He grasped back before he wrapped his arms around her. He ran his hands up her back, feeling the divots and notches in her spine and the smooth arches of her ribs down to her sacrum. Kylo breathed in the smell of her hair and her skin, eyes closed.

When Kylo trusted himself to speak, he cleared his throat, and Phasma sat up. He kept his arms around her, though loosely. If she wanted to leave, he had no right to demand otherwise, never mind his own desires.

“Kylo?” she asked.

Kylo swallowed. “Good?” he asked.

Phasma smiled. “Very good.” She ran a hand through his hair, propping herself up on one elbow. “Very, very good.”

“But you didn’t,” Kylo started, blushing profusely, “come.”

“No,” Phasma said, “I didn’t.” She rolled off of him to stretch next to him, arms far above her head as her body went taut. “But we’re just getting started.” Kylo looked at her in wonder. “Even if we stop for the night, we have tomorrow, and the day after,” she said. “All the time we need.”

“You want,” Kylo said, “this.”

“Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

“You want _me_.”

Phasma looked him squarely in the eye. “I want _you_ and _only you_. Now, if you’re awake enough to ask silly questions, you’re awake enough to reciprocate.”

Kylo was more than happy to oblige.


End file.
